


fingers on my buttons

by tmylm



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Strap-Ons, bechloe - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:22:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29781594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmylm/pseuds/tmylm
Summary: Chloe’s trip to the nail salon, and her subsequent new acrylics set, has Beca thinking it’s her turn to top, but Chloe really doesn’t need her hands to make Beca feel good, now does she?
Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Comments: 14
Kudos: 89





	fingers on my buttons

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, anon, for the [headcanon](https://chloebeale.tumblr.com/post/643505732475584512/i-just-had-an-idea-what-if-like-chloe-gets), and for allowing me to write it up!
> 
> Title from Little Mix's _Touch_.

Considering she really is not very close to any of her own aunts or uncles, Beca cannot help but find it entirely foreign, as she shuffles around the beautiful beach house entrusted to her and her girlfriend for the long weekend, the fact that the ornate cabinets are lined with an array of photographs of Chloe and her older brothers. It is not exactly _weird_ or anything, it is just very...different. Beca is positive her aunts don’t own even one picture of her, yet here Chloe’s are, decorating their beach house with countless memories of their beloved niece and nephews. It is actually kind of sweet, in fact, something Beca quietly muses as she picks up one of the dark wood frames, smirk tugging onto her lips in response to the beaming picture of a younger Chloe Beale with her unruly red curls and those familiar, vibrant blue eyes.

The picture, evidently taken on a particularly sunny day at the beach, is quite frankly one of the most adorable things Beca has ever witnessed, and her grin only pulls wider in response to the sound of footsteps entering the room, with Beca instantly flipping the frame around to show to Chloe.

“This has to be, like, twenty years ago,” she comments with an arch of her brow, “How have you literally not changed?”

“Let me see that,” Chloe gasps, stretching out a hand to retrieve the framed picture. Her bright gaze sweeps over the image, before Chloe quickly shakes her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’ve totes changed,” she says, lifting the picture to hold beside her face, and intentionally pulling the exact same pose.

“Sure you have,” Beca says with a fond roll of her eyes, instinctively moving on to the next displayed photograph.

And it is really not like Beca to make herself so at home in somebody else’s space, much less to go pawing through their belongings and decorations, but there is just something very comfortable about this particular beach house, something that reminds Beca so much of Chloe. Besides, Chloe’s aunts, one of whom is essentially just an older, married version of Chloe herself, had been insistent that they treat the place like their own for their long weekend trip, and there had been something entirely elating to Beca about the idea of a place that is _theirs_ , it makes it easy for her to lose herself in the comfortable, blissful prospect of domesticity.

“Did you see this one yet?” Chloe’s voice rings from somewhere by the adjacent cabinet, and Beca doesn’t even have to look her way to note the distinct smirk on her face, considering the way it carries so plainly in her tone.

Beca squints her eyes until she is close enough to properly see the picture, more focused gaze landing on the sight of a younger Chloe again, probably around seventeen this time. Of course Chloe’s face, soft features illuminated beautifully by the glow of the setting sun, is Beca’s initial focus, though she cannot help the way her sight is pulled in quickly by—

“Jesus, are those your _nails_?” Beca questions abruptly, thighs instinctively clenching at the very thought. She has to do a double take, gaze flickering toward Chloe’s short, neatly painted nails against the wood of the frame, then back to the talons displayed in the photograph.

“What?” Chloe frowns, turning the frame toward herself. Her expression softens as she sees what Beca is seeing, though, until there is a contented smile settled on her lips. “Oh, yeah. I mean, not _my_ nails… It was always this thing Aunt Cam and I used to do, we’d go to the nail salon and get full mani-pedis, and I’d always get a new set of acrylics. They’re pretty cool, huh?”

“I don’t know if…” Beca begins, though she cuts herself off as she sees the wistful gleam in Chloe’s sparkling eyes. “I mean, sure. How did you ever... _do_ anything with those, though? They’re, like, unnaturally long.”

Chloe responds with a breathy laugh as she carefully sets the frame back down on the mantle. “They’re supposed to be unnatural, they’re fake nails.”

“Well, yeah, but…” against her will, Beca openly shudders this time, and her thighs clench more tightly together at the thought of those going anywhere near her. Chloe is pretty fucking incredible with her hands, but that is a whole other mental image, one that Beca wants to push from her mind immediately.

Although it takes her a short moment, it seems that Chloe eventually seems to catch on, given the way her eyes drop down Beca’s clenched body, then trail back upward toward the look of horror etched onto her pale face. “Really?” she smirks in a way that makes Beca’s pursed lips press into a thin line. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t doing that with girls back then. I will say it was always easy enough to do it to myself, though.”

Her nonchalant statement and equally relaxed shrug causes Beca’s nose to wrinkle, the logistics flooding through her mind. “How didn’t you completely tear yourself apart?” The very question, and with it the accompanying mental image that she would normally find incredibly attractive without the addition of unnecessarily long nails, sends a shiver through her body, though Chloe only giggles in response.

“It’s really not that hard,” Chloe hums, stretching out a hand to tap the pad of her pointer to the tip of Beca’s nose. “But you don’t have to worry about that now.”

“I guess,” Beca frowns, gaze instinctively dropping toward Chloe’s hand. In turn, her eyes meet in the middle, and Chloe lets out an amused chuckle at the sight.

“You’re funny,” Chloe comments in a light tone, twisting her body to go back to examining the photographs. “I do kind of miss it sometimes, though. It was always just that one thing, you know? That thing you do for yourself to make yourself feel more beautiful.”

“Uh, trust me, babe, you’re beautiful without claws,” Beca promises, though as her gaze roams Chloe’s back, she notes the way her shoulders seem to have dropped slightly. Still, the topic ends there, and Beca isn’t so sure why Chloe’s change in demeanor makes her feel so...guilty?

They are only nails, after all.

* * *

While they don’t have many solidified plans for this long weekend trip, there are certain places Chloe has raved about in the lead up, places she has claimed to have been dying to introduce Beca to. They decide to hit up a seafood restaurant for dinner, Chloe’s favorite, though they leave early in the interest of Chloe showing Beca a few of her spots from past visits to the Tybee Island beach house, and Beca silently marvels at the look of sheer elation on Chloe’s face as she points out place after place from the driver’s seat of her car.

“You really love it here, huh?” Beca comments, lips curved into a natural smile as she fondly takes in her girlfriend’s joy.

“I do,” Chloe nods, fingers curling comfortably around the wheel. “All of my best memories are here in Tybee. That’s why I wanted to go to Barden, I just really love being in Georgia,” she muses pleasantly. “Spending time with my aunts was always really nice, too. They don’t have kids, so I think they just really liked having us around.”

Beca only nods along, offering Chloe an encouraging smile, before relaxing back into the passenger seat to stare at the passing sights through the half open window.

“That’s mine and Aunt Cam’s nail salon,” Chloe says with a devilish smile that Beca doesn’t even need to look at to see; again, it is something she can hear so plainly in her voice.

Regardless, her head snaps over in Chloe’s direction, before her gaze follows Chloe’s out of the driver’s side window and toward the small, underwhelming nail salon positioned on the outer row of a tiny plaza. Her first instinct is to shudder, mind flying back to the thought of those unnaturally long claws from the photograph, though as Beca takes in the expression she can see from Chloe’s side profile, she takes note of that wistful look displaying itself so clearly all over again.

It causes her lips to pull inward briefly, before Beca states without much prior thought, “You should go.”

“Go where?” Chloe questions curiously, forehead wrinkling in that adorable way that is just so distinctly Chloe.

“Nail salon,” Beca shrugs. “Get your acrylics or whatever.”

Chloe pauses then, before shooting something of an incredulous look in Beca’s direction. “Are you serious?” In spite of herself, a look of amusement dances in her eyes. “Bec, you almost had a heart attack when you saw that picture.”

The exaggeration causes Beca to roll her eyes, though she motions toward the small salon, the one Chloe has already begun to slow the car beside. “Okay, I did not have a heart attack. You said you miss it, though. And I mean, it’s not like you have to get them _that_ long again. I think you should do it,” she shrugs. “Call it my treat. I want to pay for you to get your nails done.”

“Really?” Chloe questions, pleasant surprise now shining in her glistening eyes.

“Yeah,” Beca nods shortly, motioning toward the plaza’s compact parking lot. It is late afternoon going on early evening, the place is pretty deserted, so there are plenty of free spots available. “Go ahead. We still have a little time before our dinner reservations.”

It apparently does not take too much convincing, though that doesn’t altogether surprise Beca; she’d seen that fond look before, taken note of the way Chloe had slowed the car. If a set of acrylics will make her girlfriend happy, bring back more of those cherished memories from her younger years, then that is fine by her. They’ll figure out the...other stuff later.

* * *

Before college, Beca never really had many female friends—she never really had many _friends_ , actually—so the appeal of a girls’ trip to the nail salon has always been very much lost on her. However, the same cannot be said for Chloe, who seems entirely enamored the moment they set foot through the door.

Like the mostly deserted plaza in general, the salon is pretty empty, too. The idea of sitting in the waiting area and simply… well, _waiting_ , proves kind of unappealing to Beca, so she opts for a coat of midnight purple nail polish herself, a color choice Chloe heartily compliments her on, and makes polite conversation with the technician while Chloe enthusiastically talks the ear off of hers.

All in all, it is a relatively quick trip, and despite her own earlier reservations, when Beca sees the look of joy in Chloe’s dazzling eyes as she admires her new set on their way back to the car, Beca silently muses that it could’ve taken hours— _days_ —and it would’ve still been entirely worth it, if only for that reaction of unbridled, childlike joy.

“Happy, baby?” Beca questions with an amused grin as she pulls open the passenger door to slip comfortably back into the seat. She has not actually studied Chloe’s new nails yet, though she can see that they are not as long as the ones in the picture from the beach house, so her thighs don’t clench the way they had before.

“Very,” Chloe nods excitedly, tugging her seatbelt into place, before holding out her hand to take another look.

Beca does the same this time, peering over the center console to study the new set more closely. In contrast to Beca’s striking midnight purple, Chloe had opted for a soft pink shade of polish, though the sight of a small red design on the middle nail catches her eye, and Beca’s brows tug together at first glance. “What’s that?” she questions, corners of her lips arching upward, because she can very distinctly see a clear ‘B’ painted carefully over the soft pink background.

“B,” Chloe states proudly, head tilting and fond gaze drifting Beca’s way. “For Beca.”

Although the sentiment is kind of adorable, Beca cannot help her soft chuckle in reaction. “So you’re letting me brand you now?” she jokes, reaching out to gently take hold of Chloe’s hand, moving it closer to get a better look at the small addition.

“I mean, technically I branded myself with you,” Chloe grins, adoring eyes watching the way small fingers curl around her own, until Beca can lift her hand toward her mouth, where her lips brush softly over smooth skin.

“You’re such a dork,” Beca smirks, though that doesn’t stop her from pressing another soft kiss to Chloe’s fingers, nor to pull that enamored look from Chloe’s face.

“But you like it, right?” Chloe asks expectantly, lifting her hand to place on the wheel once Beca has released her gentle hold.

“I do,” Beca nods, relaxing back comfortably into the passenger seat once more. “I think you’re really fucking cute, in fact.”

“Good,” Chloe beams, quickly shifting the car into drive. “You wanna know why I got it on that finger specifically?”

Beca only watches her curiously, and while Chloe is not looking in her direction, too busy focusing on the view from the windshield, it is clear that she sees Beca’s eyes on her, because Beca notes the way her lips tug upward into a smug smile then.

“Because when I’m fucking you, that’s the finger I always start out with.”

The nonchalant statement, paired specifically with the quick wink Chloe shoots her way, sends Beca’s mind into overdrive, and soon her thighs are clenching for a whole new reason.

* * *

Chloe is good at this, she is good at possessing Beca’s mind, at filling it with sinful thoughts in the least convenient of places—like in the car on their way to a dinner reservation that Beca would happily miss in favor of going home and scratching the itch she is now overcome by, but that she knows is important to Chloe.

Still, her girlfriend is a total turn on for her, she always has been (even before she was actually her girlfriend…) so Beca cannot help how her thoughts begin to spiral the way they do, and she knows that Chloe knows it, too. She knows that Chloe _knows_ what she was doing with that particular statement, and once they are seated at their reserved table, Beca thinks that Chloe knows she is going to at least _want_ to act on it.

“What is that look?” Chloe questions innocently over the top of her menu, though the smirk on her face completely betrays the innocence of her tone.

While Beca glances upward, lips instinctively pulling inward as her gaze drops to take in the sight of Chloe’s exposed chest in the low-cut dress she has chosen for the evening, she intentionally goes back to perusing her own menu. “Nothing, weirdo,” she grumbles, the feeling of Chloe’s foot brushing gently against her lower leg only further sending her mind into overdrive.

“Okay,” Chloe hums breezily, eyes down on the menu she has begun to spread neatly onto the table before her. “So, I guess if I was to say I had to use the restroom, you’d just stay here, right?”

Beca’s gaze lifts again at that, and she notes the way Chloe has already begun to rise from her seat. In turn, Beca simply gawks, though all it takes is a quick wink to have her setting down her own menu too, until she finds herself eagerly trailing along behind Chloe, before the cold wood of the closed bathroom door is pressing firmly to her back.

“So you like the nails?” Chloe murmurs as her lips push hungrily to Beca’s, fingertips trailing lightly down her side in a way that causes the tips of the acrylics to brush against her skin through the fabric of her shirt.

Already, Beca’s breathing has begun to quicken, the tension of the car ride pouring out into the eager kiss, and her words come out breathily in return. “You knew what you were doing,” she mumbles, hands falling to settle on top of Chloe’s, until she can lift her bare arms to drape loosely around her own neck. She feels the way Chloe’s lips curl upward against her own as Beca’s hands drop to her hips, easily pushing Chloe backward and toward the sinks, and revels in the way Chloe takes it upon herself to tighten her loose hold.

It is half thanks to Beca lifting, half thanks to Chloe hopping up herself—if either of them displays better upper body strength in their relationship, it is very much Chloe and those lethal muscles of hers—that sees Chloe quickly seated on the free counter space beside the sink, thighs parting to wrap around Beca’s slender middle.

“And yeah,” Beca breathes, tearing her already kiss-swollen lips from Chloe’s to begin trailing open-mouthed kisses along her jaw, “I think they look really fucking sexy.” Beca hadn’t actually wanted to admit it, but _Jesus_ , they really, really do.

Just like Chloe knew what she was doing before, she knows exactly what she is doing now as she begins to lightly scratch her acrylics over the prickling skin at the back of Beca’s neck, and Beca’s thighs squeeze together again as she begins to push kisses along Chloe’s exposed neck, with Chloe in turn tipping her head back against the mirror to give her better room to work.

At least when it comes to this kind of thing, Beca often tends to follow the rules, but the idea of anybody walking in here and catching them—a very likely scenario, given the amount of people seated right outside the door—completely slips her mind as Chloe’s soft whimper vibrates from her throat, shaking against Beca’s parted lips, and rings out as the most appealing echo into the room around them.

Beca would not normally be the one to initiate something like this, but the light, floaty material of Chloe’s dress between her clenched fingers is so damn _easy_ for Beca to lift upward as her teeth scrape possessively along Chloe’s skin, it is just way too tempting for her to want to stop. Given the way Chloe’s thighs part further, hips pushing forward in an obvious hint, Chloe doesn’t want that, either.

“This finger?” Beca murmurs, pressing her palm between Chloe’s open legs to cup over the fabric of her cotton panties, and intentionally swiping her middle finger over the heat radiating from beneath.

“Mhm,” Chloe whimpers unsteadily, hands slipping further up Beca’s neck to begin raking her fingers through curled brunette hair. She uses the new grip to tug Beca’s head back gently, until their lips are meeting with one another’s in another hungry, passionate display. The gentle force causes Beca to hiss quietly, and she feels the upward curve of Chloe’s lips against her own once more.

While the thought of getting caught does finally enter her mind, Beca cannot help but find that particular aspect somehow exciting, and as Chloe’s tongue trails along the seam in her lips until Beca instinctively parts them to deepen the kiss, Beca rides the wave of arousal-induced confidence to peel the damp fabric of Chloe’s panties aside, until her middle finger is brushing directly through her heat.

“You’re so wet,” Beca murmurs into the kiss, finger beginning to spread that arousal through Chloe’s folds, much to Chloe’s whimpers of approval.

“I’m always wet for you,” Chloe breathes, knees clamping onto Beca’s sides as her hips roll forward to push herself more firmly into Beca’s touch, “You don’t know what a turn on you are, Bec.”

Chloe’s words only serve to quicken Beca’s movements, until two fingers are pushing tightly against her swollen clit, while she takes Chloe’s bottom lip almost possessively between her teeth.

“Inside,” Chloe whimpers, thighs beginning to tremble with Beca’s more forceful, more deliberate movements. And Beca is kind of enjoying the control here, but it is difficult to ignore Chloe’s request when her fingers are gripping onto her hair the way they are, and her verbal reactions are falling so beautifully into Beca’s mouth.

Chloe releases a muffled moan against Beca’s lips as two fingers proceed to slip inside of her, just like instructed, and Beca smirks at the way Chloe’s inner walls clench so deliciously around her digits, hips rolling to show Beca exactly what she wants.

While she pulls them back out to slide effortlessly through swollen folds, pads pressing firmly against her clit, Beca quickly lowers her hand to sink those same two fingers back inside of her, this time beginning to thrust in a faster in and out motion, while Chloe pulls her face closer to drown out the sounds of her loud verbal reactions with Beca’s lips.

Beca had simply expected a nice dinner tonight, maybe a little fun like this once they returned back home. What she had not expected was to fuck her girlfriend to orgasm right there on the pristine sink of an unfamiliar restaurant bathroom, but Chloe comes with Beca’s fingers curled inside of her, trembling thighs loosening their grip on Beca’s sides as her body weakens with her fast release.

Although Beca slows to an eventual stop once Chloe has ridden that final wave, neither shows any signs of parting from the other right away. Chloe’s fingers loosen their grip on Beca’s now more unruly curls, until her arm is wrapping around her neck again and tightening to pull her closer while Beca slips the wet fabric of Chloe’s panties back into place, and Chloe whimpers with aftershocks into the messy kiss.

Chloe’s other hand falls to where Beca’s has gripped onto her hip, slender fingers wrapping around Beca’s hand, until she can lift it up between their faces with Chloe pulling back from the kiss to wrap swollen lips around Beca’s wet digits. And Beca has always known that her girlfriend is sexy, that she is arguably the hottest woman in existence, but to watch her clean off her own arousal, mascara coated lashes fanning from her closed lids and tongue brushing deliberately over Beca’s middle finger, _holy fuck_ , nothing could be quite so satisfying.

“God,” Beca breathes shakily as she watches with widened eyes, other hand gently pulling the skirt of Chloe’s floaty dress back into place before she gets too worked up and jumps in for round two.

The fact that they have gotten away this time without anybody walking in and seeing them is some kind of miracle already, Beca is sure a second round would only be tempting fate.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, despite the fact that dinner really is very good and Beca can totally see why this particular restaurant is one of Chloe’s favorites, Beca’s mind is really not on the food. With the mental image ingrained into her mind forever of Chloe cleaning off Beca’s fingers the way she had, and Chloe’s foot brushing against Beca’s legs beneath the table, it is impossible to focus on anything but the woman seated across from her, and Beca is positive that the aforementioned round two will be happening just as soon as they arrive back at the house.

The door has barely closed behind them before she realizes that she is very much not wrong.

To simply look at Chloe Beale, to see those defined arm muscles (especially right now in her floaty, sleeveless dress), her physical strength is incredibly obvious, but it will never not blow Beca’s mind, never not serve to completely turn her on, the way Chloe can lift her so effortlessly. Sure, it probably helps that Beca may be kind of tiny...but whatever.

By the time Chloe has carried her through the bedroom door, Beca’s legs wrapped tightly around her slender waist, Beca has already peeled off her light jacket and gotten to work on tugging her shirt up and over her head. Both are soon discarded messily onto the floor.

Chloe simply stares at her through hooded lids, her mouth curved upward into a subtle, contented smirk, and it is clear that despite Beca having the position of control back in the restaurant bathroom, the tables have very much flipped now. Not that she is complaining—not even a little bit.

They don’t quite make it to the bed before Chloe has begun to lower Beca to her feet, and while Beca looks at her with an expression of slight confusion at first, she chooses not to verbally question it. Even less so when Chloe’s hands slip from the backs of Beca’s thighs to the waistband of her jeans, nimble fingers effortlessly popping the button.

“That was so sexy, Bec,” Chloe murmurs, head ducking to push her parted lips to the underside of Beca’s jaw. In turn, Beca’s head tips back to accommodate Chloe’s mouth, while her hands grasp urgently at the floaty fabric of Chloe’s floral patterned dress. “The way you took charge back there.”

“It wasn’t like you could do it with those on your fingers,” Beca teases playfully, though she is cut off by the way Chloe’s teeth begin to scrape gently along her skin, and the smug tone to Beca’s voice melts instead into a needy whimper.

“I don’t need my fingers to make you feel good, baby,” Chloe croons, her words vibrating against Beca’s neck in a way that seems to echo right through her body and land directly between her legs. Chloe’s hands, the points of her brand new acrylics, begin to trail feather lightly up the bare skin of Beca’s torso, until they are slipping behind her back to expertly pluck at the clasp of her bra. In one smooth motion, the garment loosens and the straps begin to fall down her arms, before Chloe reaches up to peel it away completely.

The same way Chloe is good with her fingers, she is also incredibly skilled with her mouth, and the mental image causes Beca’s legs to immediately quake in anticipation. “Good,” Beca murmurs, losing herself in the way Chloe’s lips push hot kisses along the defined outline of her collarbone as she tugs her dress upward, Chloe’s hands now pushing Beca’s open jeans down her trembling thighs, “I like your tongue, too.”

“Mm,” Chloe hums thoughtfully, parted lips beginning to trail their way toward Beca’s neck until she can brush her tongue deliberately over her pulsepoint, the small action causing Beca to whimper once more. “I brought the strap.”

The very statement causes Beca to suck in a shuddering breath, lids fluttering open to take in Chloe’s darkened stare as they part from one another only to remove the final barriers of clothing.

Beca steps out of her jeans and underwear with Chloe’s help, then reaches forward to curl her fingertips under the elastic of Chloe’s cotton panties. The way arousal streaks the tops of her thighs as Beca begins to push them downward causes her core to ache, makes her wish she’d been able to do this, to _see_ this, back at the restaurant.

In fact, the sight proves far too tempting for her not to touch, and once Chloe is completely out of her underwear, Beca cannot help the way her hand clutches at Chloe’s bare hip, the other slipping instinctively between her thighs. Although Chloe allows her to at least _feel_ , and Beca hears the way she sucks in a shaky breath considering Chloe has gone immediately back to pushing hot, lingering kisses against her jaw, trailing upward to the shell of her ear, she eventually reaches down to tug Beca’s hand away.

“No,” Chloe whispers in a tone laced with the world’s highest assertiveness, smoothly moving Beca’s hand between her own legs instead, and Beca’s breath instantly catches in her throat. Even more so with the way Chloe uses her own grip to begin moving Beca’s fingers slowly against her clit, the immediate contact causing her body to ache with unbridled need. “Touch yourself,” she instructs in a husky tone, free hand resting against Beca’s hip to begin guiding her backward and toward the nearby vanity. Chloe pulls her hand back then, gaze lowering down Beca’s body to make sure she is still touching, though it lifts for their darkened eyes to lock, and the devilish smirk on Chloe’s mouth has Beca’s teeth sinking harshly into her bottom lip. “I want you nice and wet for the strap.”

Yeah, okay, so Chloe has _definitely_ taken back the control, and Beca is still anything but complaining.

She watches as Chloe eventually takes a step back, pad of her finger still brushing small, slow circles against her aching clit. Chloe shoots her a quick wink, something that causes Beca to reach back with her free hand to grip onto the edge of the vanity, before backing toward their belongings to retrieve the silicone appendage. Honestly, Beca hadn’t even known they’d brought it, but again, she is totally not complaining.

Chloe is apparently not trying to waste any time, which is totally fine by Beca. She returns quickly with the toy clutched in one hand, small bottle of cherry flavored lube in the other, something Beca knows from experience Chloe loves to clean up herself afterwards. She is already turned on, already so _ready_ for both Chloe and the toy, but that additional thought only serves to work her up even more, and Beca is whimpering quietly by the time Chloe reaches down to tug her hand from between her legs.

“Make yourself feel good, baby?” Chloe husks, that same small smirk still dancing on her lips. She locks her darkened eyes with Beca’s, and while eye contact has always been a point of anxiety for Beca, it is something she has grown to enjoy with Chloe, especially in deep, intense moments such as this one. Chloe’s intent gaze remains on her own as she transfers the toy to Beca’s hand, before reaching up to take Beca’s chin between her thumb and forefinger. “Put it in for me,” she instructs, thumb brushing over Beca’s lips, before she leans forward to press a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the swollen surface.

Beca certainly does not need telling twice, especially given the way Chloe’s body presses up against her own, thighs parting in a less than subtle hint over the toy.

“Holy fuck,” Beca murmurs, free hand slipping between Chloe’s legs to feel the way arousal has begun to pool so deliciously against her fingers. The brief contact pulls a soft whimper from the back of Chloe’s throat, despite her distinct air of confidence, and Beca cannot help but smirk against her lips as she begins to guide the toy toward her dripping center.

Although they do own a regular strap and harness, it is always so much better when they use this one, the one that slots inside of Chloe and moves against her in just the right place when she is fucking Beca, and Beca revels in how easily the hooked end slips inside of her—and the way Chloe whimpers again in approval. “Good?” Beca whispers, darkened eyes scanning over Chloe’s face from their close position.

“Mhm,” Chloe nods, thumb still pressing to Beca’s bottom lip. She releases it eventually in favor of pushing her palm to Beca’s hip and guiding her body until she is turned around to face the vanity, with Chloe pressed up tightly behind her. Beca is positive that this specific position, with the large mirror right there in front of them, is anything but accidental.

She can see the way Chloe’s hooded eyes are watching her through the reflection, body aching in response to that hungry expression on her face. Those same eyes lock with her own, and it is impossible for Beca to even attempt to tear her stare away, especially when Chloe reaches up a hand to delicately sweep Beca’s long hair behind her shoulder, then leans in to press a slow, open-mouthed kiss to her prickling skin.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Beca breathes out unsteadily, hand instinctively reaching over her shoulder to cup her fingers to the back of Chloe’s neck.

“My girlfriend is even hotter,” Chloe murmurs against her skin, free hand dropping to push between Beca’s parted thighs from behind, until she has begun rubbing her palm through the heat collecting between Beca’s legs. Beca cannot help the pleasured hiss she emits in reaction, nor the way her head lolls back slowly against Chloe’s shoulder despite the way she _really_ wants to keep watching her through the reflection.

The decision is out of her hands then, though, considering the way Chloe’s hand presses to her upper back, effectively arching Beca’s body forward until her arm is unwrapping from around Chloe’s neck to instead flatten her palms against the surface of the vanity for Chloe to tease the tip of the appendage to Beca’s dripping center.

“Do you need the lube?” Chloe questions, gaze shifting to the small bottle placed down beside them, before drifting easily back to Beca’s reflected face. Beca responds with a very certain shake of her head; she knows just how wet she is already, how desperate she is to really feel Chloe.

Although slowly at first, Chloe presses her hips forward, the tip of the toy slipping somewhat gently inside of her, and Beca’s bottom lip pulls in between her teeth as she adjusts. Eventually, her head nods to urge Chloe to go on. She sees that same smirk return, before Chloe’s body is pressing more tightly into her own, with the length eventually filling Beca in the most pleasurable way, and Beca whimpers softly in reaction.

“Bec, you look so sexy,” Chloe croons, gaze trained intently on Beca’s reflection in the mirror before them. Beca glances upward to meet Chloe’s stare, though her lids flutter shut in response to the way Chloe begins to drag her hips slowly back, then to push forward at just the right time.

This isn’t a new thing for them, so it takes only a moment for Chloe to find a steady, comfortable rhythm, and soon her hips are rocking to sink the toy in and halfway back out in an easy, fluid motion.

And this is so hot, it feels so incredibly _good_ , but Beca wants to touch Chloe, she wants her hands on her, so as she whimpers through the feeling of the toy thrusting in and out of her dripping center, she unsteadily straightens her body to reach behind her shoulder again and to settle her hand on the back of Chloe’s neck, fingers gripping tightly to pull Chloe’s body flush against her own.

“God, Beca,” Chloe whimpers, kiss-swollen lips finding their way to the curve of Beca’s neck, right where it meets her shoulder. One arm winds around Beca’s front until she is able to palm at her breast, thumb arching to begin brushing the pad over a stiffened nipple. The way the pebbled peak rolls with Chloe’s movements causes a throaty moan to fall from Beca’s parted lips, and she turns her head to seek out Chloe’s mouth with her own.

“I want to look at you,” Chloe murmurs into the messy kiss, hips still rocking at that same steady pace. Despite herself, she does nothing to pull away at first, though eventually they part until their eyes are locking through the reflection once more, and there is something so incredibly sexy, so beautifully intimate about the connection that Beca can barely keep her legs from shaking.

The same way this feels good for Beca, she knows it does for Chloe, too. The toy is moving against her in just the right place, causing her to moan, unfiltered, as she watches the way Beca’s features contort in sheer, unbridled pleasure.

The hand on her chest drops to slide down Beca’s body, the points of those damn acrylics leaving a hot trail of goosebumps in their wake, until Chloe’s fingers are pressing to Beca’s neglected clit. The way they move so effortlessly against her as the toy continues to thrust in and out of her causes Beca to moan loudly in reaction, for her own hips to rock back into Chloe’s in an impossible search for more contact.

Beca sees the appeal of seeing one another, but it is difficult for her to keep her eyes open the closer Chloe fucks her to her peak, and soon her lids are fluttering shut as her jaw slackens and pleasured moans begin to spill out into the thick air around them.

Despite her unsteady legs, she straightens again to grasp at Chloe’s neck, fingers bunching harshly in the back of messy auburn curls, until Beca’s open mouth is resting against Chloe’s, both emitting loud moans into the messy kiss.

Her thighs tremble relentlessly as Beca comes with the toy pounding in and out of her, Chloe’s fingers rubbing harshly through swollen folds in a way that Beca can literally _hear_ , and Beca’s movements slow, body growing limp, as she rides those remaining waves of pleasure.

Beca’s chest is heaving in the same way as Chloe’s as they eventually slow to a stop, though Chloe doesn’t pull the toy out just yet. They simply stand where they are, pressed up against one another with Chloe’s arm wrapped around Beca’s middle to keep her steady on her shaking legs, and both continue to moan into their messy, uncalculated kisses.

“Holy shit, Chlo,” Beca whimpers once Chloe has slipped the toy back out of her and Beca has regained the use of her legs. She refuses to part from Chloe, only twisting in her arms to press a desperate, hungry kiss to those familiar, inviting lips. Like she never wants to let go, Beca’s other arm lifts to wrap around Chloe’s neck, pulling their bodies tightly together, and she mirrors that same smirk she feels tugging at Chloe’s lips as they both try to work their way down from their shared high.

The toy is great, and _fuck_ , Chloe really knows exactly how to work it, but Beca doesn’t want anything between them anymore, so reaches down with an unsteady hand to slip the hook from inside of her. Chloe whimpers at the feeling, and soon Beca is dropping the strap carelessly onto the floor while Chloe’s hands grasp at her bare waist, sticky bodies moving in sync as they shuffle toward the bed.

Beca lowers to the mattress, arms tightening to easily pull Chloe on top of her, until Chloe’s knees are planting down either side of Beca’s thighs. It is only at that point that they both pull back from the kiss, and Beca stares up at her girlfriend in total and utter awe, absolute adoration, as she takes in that post-sex glow.

“You know, I was, like, really worried we wouldn’t be able to…” she glances down toward Chloe’s hands, both of which have begun to rise until they can cup delicately at Beca’s flushed cheeks. “You know. With those.”

Chloe, higher up than Beca thanks to her position over her lap, stares down at her with a smug smile, head ducking to brush a lingering kiss to the corner of Beca’s mouth. “I told you I didn’t need my fingers to make you feel good,” she husks, one hand slipping behind Beca’s head until Chloe can push her body forward to lay Beca back into the mattress, her palm holding her up to hover her body over the top of Beca’s.

“Fuck, yeah,” Beca agrees, arms tightening where they remain looped around Chloe’s neck. She notes that darkened look overtaking Chloe’s eyes all over again, and Beca cannot help her devilish smirk in return.

“I didn’t forget what you said about how much you like my tongue,” Chloe winks, ducking her head to nudge the tip of her nose gently to Beca’s. Her hand has already begun to trail feather lightly down Beca’s prickling torso, nails scraping along hot skin, and Beca thinks she might actually see the appeal of those weirdly sexy acrylics. “You want that now, baby?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Here's my [tumblr](http://chloebeale.tumblr.com).


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